


Green tea and cranberry scones

by grimmfairy



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Boyfriends, Caring Leonard, Early Mornings, Fever, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Scones, They Aren't, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, baker barry allen, barry is just cute around len, coffee is a must, ex-con Len, iris tries to meddle, she thinks barry and len are dating in secret, sick barry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:02:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmfairy/pseuds/grimmfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another coffee shop AU. </p><p>Len is waiting in line for his coffee when he witnesses a rude customer get taken down a peg by the owner.</p><p>A take on "I want to speak with the manager!" "I am the manager."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Len was not what one would call a “morning person.” In fact, this early in the morning Lisa would say he was barely a  _person_  at all. Yet, here he was on the tail end of another insomnia-ridden night, standing with the rest of the early-bird zombies in line for a large dose of caffeine and maybe a scone. Or two. Or five. 

This particular coffee shop had pastries to die for, and Len wasn’t going to let the occasional raised eyebrow from other customers deter him from his green tea and cranberry scone with white chocolate drizzle. It was his  ~~weekly~~ (who was he kidding)  _daily_ indulgence, and the baker certainly didn’t judge.

The man seemed to practically  _radiate_ positive energy. It was as if someone taken all of the joy of Christmas and Halloween and Thanksgiving and bottled it up inside one Barry Allen, who never failed to share his light with even the sleepiest grumps that left with his heavenly baked goods and a cheerful “have a nice day!” In anyone else, it would have been an annoying fake-corn-syrup sweet trait, but Barry Allen made it work. 

It was a morning like any other, really, as Len stood patiently and eyed the large basket of his treasured scones. He was supposed to meet his sister to go over their next job and he was considering buying her one of his beloved scones as thanks for her hard work (and as thanks for sticking by him now that he was on straight- _ish_ and narrow). Deep in thought and sleep deprived, he didn’t notice the commotion at the counter right away. It was the hand slamming down on the counter with the tell-tale clatter of many rings that caught his attention. He trained his crime-sharpened eyes on the front of the line with the rest of the patrons.

A new barista, barely of legal working age by the look of him, was attempting to pacify a very angry lady about her drink. Iris, the manager, was no where to be seen but was very likely in the back with Barry. Maybe she was taste-testing some new confectionery creation. Len had twice had the honor of trying new flavors after Barry figured out who it was that kept buying all of his green tea scones. They were his personal favorite to make.

“This is not what I ordered!” The lady sneered, eyes flashing with predatory anger. Len narrowed his eyes. He was not in the mood to be delayed, and by the looks of the person she had elbowed out of the way at the front of the line, she was quickly wearing out her welcome. Len was about to muster the energy to give up his place in line to defend the kid when Barry appeared to stand behind the barista. He was covered in flour, and his usually delighted grin was now fixed into a more polite, razor-edged customer service smile/grimace.

“Excuse me ma’am, but what exactly seems to be the problem?” He asked. The lady drew back, her perfectly coiffed hair settling into place.

“Your… _colleague_ had the nerve to use regular vanilla syrup instead of sugar free! Is he deaf? Or just  _stupid_? What kind of hiring policy do you have here?” She was practically foaming at the mouth. Barry side-eyed his barista.

“It’s Hartley’s first day, ma’am, I’m sure it was just an honest mistake. Let me make you a new one.”

“I want a refund!” She spat. Barry nodded.

“Of course. Hartley, cancel the new drink.”

“What?” The woman screamed. “You’re not going to replace it?”

“I asked if you wanted a new one, and you said you wanted a refund,” Barry explained patiently. By now, even his customer service smile had faded.

“I want to speak with the manager!” She said triumphantly, ignoring the glares of those behind her. If looks could kill, Len figured she’d be barbecued. However, for any regular customers like himself, the situation had just gotten far more amusing. Barry headed into the back room where he made his baked goods, and Iris soon emerged alone. She had obviously been listening in or Barry had briefed her before she came out because she didn’t look thrilled to be pulled away from whatever she was doing.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes! This  _moron_ messed up my order, and then your other employee was very rude!”

“Miss West, Barry offered to replace it or refund her money,” Hartley said, looking more annoyed than scared. “That’s store policy isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Ma’am, I’m sorry about your drink, but I can only offer a replacement or a refund. I cannot comp the drink. Store policy,” Iris explained, far less patiently than Barry. Len was sure he had never seen a woman’s face turn that shade of purple before.

“I will be speaking to the owner!”

“He’s here right now if you would like to speak with him,” Iris said with an air of amusement. “But I can guarantee you won’t get the answer you’re looking for.”

The woman motioned rudely for Iris to go get him, still oblivious to the anger of the people behind her. Barry reemerged from the back room, noticeably annoyed. He must have something in the oven, Len supposed. Barry hated burning his creations. Len was seriously considering a one-time-only return to crime if this woman kept him from his coffee and scone much longer.

“I heard you’d like to speak with the owner?” Barry asked, sporting a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The woman rolled her eyes.

“Yes!”

“Well, that’s me,” Barry said firmly.

The woman’s face drained, turning a pale shade of green.

_“You’re..?”_

 “And I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to either take your refund and leave, or stand to the side while a fresh cup of whatever you ordered is prepared,” Barry continued over her, calm in the face of adversity as always. “If you continue to make a scene and harass my employees I’ll be forced to call the police. 

The woman spluttered for a few seconds, turning to the man behind her for support. That was a mistake as all she saw was either annoyance or dull lifeless eyes staring back at her.

“Fine,” She said, slamming her credit card back on the counter. “I’ll take my money, but I will  _never_ be back!”

“Alrighty then,” Barry said, his cheerful attitude returning. He quickly rang up her refund, handed back her card, and gave her a thumbs up when she shot a poisonous glare at him. A few brave souls applauded sarcastically. Barry didn’t even wait for her to be out of earshot. “Sorry for the wait, folks. Hartley, please take one dollar off their orders for the next hour please.”

The woman slammed the door behind her. Barry sighed with releif, his eyes briefly catching len’s from his place in line. Barry gave a little one-shoulder shrug, and Len smirked at him. He was pleased to see the blush rise on Barry’s face.

Len bought three scones when it was his turn. They were still warm from the oven. 


	2. Chapter 2

Len had a rule.

_"Never hit on service industry workers while they are on the clock."_

It seemed pretty common-sense to him, but apparently not everyone thought so. He refused to be one of those creeps that hit on baristas or blackmailed a phone number from their waitress in return for a decent tip. As a teenager Lisa had worked as a waitress at a few different places, and each time she came home with a scowl on her face and the same story, it only solidified Len's resolve to never be _that guy_.

Recently, he wondered if he had become _that guy._ He liked to talk to Barry when he was behind the register in the morning, and Barry had occasionally come to where he was sitting to chat about the weather and other innocuous things. But Len wasn't sure. Barry was friendly to everyone, and flashed a bright smile to all of his customers and Len had seen him go to other tables as well to ask people how they were doing. And he certainly didn't want to presume.

It was Sunday, and he had nowhere urgent to be and nothing to do. He was sitting at a table next to one of the windows, a steaming cappuccino in one of the branded mugs and half a scone in front of him, when he heard someone one sit down in front of him. He placed his bookmark and looked up. Iris was sitting across from him, sans the apron she wore when she was on the clock.

"Miss West," Len greeted her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What are you doing with my brother?" She asked sternly. Len paused.

"Excuse me? Your brother?"

"My brother, Barry Allen? Owner and baker?" Iris asked again, annoyance tinging her voice. 

"He seems very nice. And he's a talented baker. Did he...mention something to you?" Len replied carefully, unsure of where this was going. Iris looked somewhere in-between annoyed and pissed. Had he somehow broken his own rule on accident? Sure, he smiled at Barry and liked to see him blush, but he didn't think that was overstepping. Barry even brought him new flavors of scones to try one in awhile if he came during a lull.

" _Should_ he have mentioned something?" Iris leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table top. 

"I don't know what you think is going on, but if I've made him uncomfortable in any way, I will apologize," Len offered. He didn't want to give up this place. Even without Barry, it was something of a sanctuary where he could read his books and the coffee was divine. Iris leaned back, a look of mortified shock on her face.

"What? No! That's not-What-" Iris blew out an exasperated sigh. "Look. This is so embarrassing, but I came over here to ask if you and Bear were dating in secret. Which, obviously you're not and he was telling the truth. God, I'll never live this down."

Iris was blushing and avoiding his eyes now, rubbing at her neck nervously. Len had to take a moment to process this. Somehow Iris had gotten it into her head that Barry was dating him? Did Barry talk about him or something? 

"Why would you think that?" Len asked finally.

"You come in here all the time, you buy his scones, you smile at him, and you never make a pass at the staff or make a scene. And Barry, he..." Iris trailed off. "He always acts all flustered when he talks to you and more than once he's almost passed out because he forgets to breathe when he's talking about you. And he lets you try his new stuff before he sells it. He never does that. I just...assumed."

"Oh. I see," Len said, looking over at the counter where Hartley was taking orders and the other baristas were making drinks. "So you figured you would just confront me in public."

"Well I tried to ask Barry but he denied it," Iris explained sheepishly. "I just thought he was hiding it because he didn't want me prying. Like I just...did."

Iris sighed again. She stood to leave.

"I get it. You're worried about him."

"Yeah, he's had a rough time," Iris said. She looked back at the register. "My break is over. I just...I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Len said, grateful that no one seemed to paying them any mind. 

"No, it isn't. Even if you and Barry were together, it's not okay for me go behind his back like this. And it's not fair to you either." Iris looked resigned and tired now. "I really am sorry."

Iris walked away, leaving a very confused and very curious man behind.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Len knew when he was being avoided. Years of toeing the line between right and wrong and being around his father’s unsavory acquaintances as a child had given him a finely tuned intuition when it came to reading body language and situations.

Not that he needed it with Barry Allen. The kid was about as subtle as an iguana among pigeons. The first time he came back after being confronted by Iris, Barry had all but tripped over his own feet trying to get back to the kitchen and nearly knocked Hartley over in the process. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so disappointing. Len was having a rough morning since his power was out and he had hoped to get at least a sunny smile to think about for the rest of the day. He smiled reassuringly when Iris handed him his perfectly made drink with another apology, but Barry was nowhere to be seen. He loitered at his regular table for a while, picking at the scone he had purchased and reading his book, before he accepted that Barry wasn’t going to come out and talk to him. Just as he was about to leave, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. 

“Len?” Barry looked nervous. “Can I-I mean, do you have some time to, you know, talk? Now? Or later, I guess, um-”

“Sure, we can talk,” Len said, indicating the empty seat opposite him. Barry looked back at the counter where Iris was obviously watching them.

“Actually, I’m on break, so would you maybe want to go for a walk or something? I’d rather not have eyes drilling holes in my head,” Barry offered hopefully. “We don’t have to, of course. We can stay here if you want.”

“I have nowhere to be,” Len said as he stood. He donned his light coat and Barry followed him to the trash can where he threw out the little bag the scone had been in. Then, half-full coffee in hand, he walked outside as Barry held the door.

“First of all, I wanted to say that I am so sorry for what happened,” Barry said as soon as they were outside. “Iris had no right to confront you like that, even if we were secretly dating. Which we aren’t, of course.”

“Of course. Why would she think you’d date  _ me _ ?,” Len replied teasingly. Barry suddenly blushed.

“Not that I  _ wouldn’t _ -that we  _ couldn’t- _ I didn’t mean it that way,” Barry sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. The sun was hidden behind light gray clouds, and a bite of rain was in the air. No one seemed to pay them any mind as they strolled down the street.

“Iris said you talk about me,” Len said after the silence had dragged on. “How long has that been happening?”

“I don’t remember, exactly,” Barry shrugged. “I just...I don’t know anything about you. All of my other regulars have shared their whole life story with us by now. But all I know about you is that you have a sweet tooth and a really irregular schedule.”

Len had to give that to him. He did come in at weird times. His “job”, or as Lisa liked to call it, “his midlife crisis”, was not the usual nine-to-five or unpaid internship that most of the other customers had. 

“If you wanted to know more about me, there are easier ways to do that besides making your sister think we’re dating so that’s she’d confront me in public, giving you the excuse to ask me about my life,” Len said, half-joking, making the man walking next to him blush to the tips of his ears. Barry was just too easy to rile up and Len wasn’t really that annoyed by the whole situation anyways. 

“Are you sure? Name one,” Barry said, smiling.

“Oh, stalking, for one,” Len replied. They had made a few turns and were heading back to the coffee shop. Barry giggled. “One of those free online background checks, maybe. Or, you could go old school and just talk to me.”

“Right,” Barry agreed a little sheepishly. “See the thing is, I was never sure if you actually liked me or if you’re just polite to people in the service industry.”

“I will have you know I am polite to everyone,” Len said, mock-offended. “But all you had to do was ask.”

Barry walked silently next to him for a little bit, and Len was about to tell him not to worry about it when he suddenly spoke again.

“Theoretically, if I were to ask you to ‘talk’, could it be over a nice meal and followed by a movie?” Barry asked. He winced inwardly. How teenage-romance was that? Dinner and a movie? But Len just smiled.

“That could be arranged.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Len crossed his arms over his chest and blocked the bedroom door. Barry stared petulantly at him.

"I can't just take a day off!"

"Yes, you can. And you will, or Iris is going to kill us both," Len said sternly. Barry's fever-glassed eyes morphed into something more "puppy-dog" in nature, and Len was almost impressed by how easily Barry could slip into the look. 

"Please? Just for a few hours?" Barry begged, looking pathetic. The effect was ruined when Barry started coughing. "You're mean."

"Hey, someone needs to stay here and make sure you're okay. And only Iris knows how to run the cafe so you're stuck with me," Len said, gently steering his sick boyfriend back to bed. "Besides, she's impervious to your puppy eyes. I, on the other hand, might be persuaded to wait on you hand and foot."

It took a little work to get Barry situated in bed again, mostly because Barry was putting up a token resistance and partly because it took some time to rearrange all the extra blankets and the weird microwavable warm owl thing that Barry insisted he needed with him. Once Len was satisfied, he perched on the edge of the bed and gently smoothed his hand over his boyfriend's forehead. The fever was high, but not hospital-worthy so he wasn't too worried just yet. It would be better if he could convince him (a full grown man!) to take the fever reducing syrup. Barry stared sullenly at him from under the blankets that Len had pulled up to his chin. Len had to repress the urge to laugh at him, but Barry was so sick he didn't want to anger him. He had already promised Iris that he would take care of him and keep him from sneaking out to go to work, and he may as well try to make it as pleasant an experience as possible for the both of them. 

"I can take care of myself," Barry grumbled. Len snorted, ignoring the glare Barry gave him.

"You won't even take your medicine!"

"I don't need it!"

"You barely made it to bedroom door without passing out," Len pointed out. Barry sighed and rolled over to his side a bit. "At least try to drink something. Do you want some tea?"

Barry shrugged, which Len decided to take as a yes. He made sure Barry was set up with his laptop and Netflix before leaving for the kitchen. His phone buzzed as he filled the kettle. 

_Iris: How is he?  
Len: Whining about missing work_   
_Iris: Tell him everything is fine._   
_Len: Will do._

Len selected a few tea bags from the box he had picked up specifically for Barry on his way over. It was a rather unpleasant tasting mix of herbal teas that was supposed to help with fevers, and it was better than nothing. Besides, with Barry's congested nose he doubted that he'd be able to taste it at all. A healthy dose of honey and a squeeze of lemon into the teapot and he was ready. He grabbed Barry's "World's Okayest Brother" mug (a gift from Iris, no doubt) and brought the tea back to bedroom. Barry was now sitting up a bit against a mountain of pillows with his computer on his lap, watching Cupcake Wars. Len poured him some tea and handed him the mug. He had brewed it a bit strong and added some ice cubes so that it would be a drinkable temperature right away.

"Here, try this," Len said, placing the teapot down on the bedside table. Barry wordlessly took the mug, still a bit sulky, but his did shift over a bit in a clear invitation. Len sat on top of the blankets and let Barry lean into him.

Later, after Barry had finally fallen into a deep fever sleep, Len called Iris to check in.

"Thanks again for doing this," Iris said. Len could hear the sounds of the cafe through the phone. "He's really stubborn when he's sick and usually I'd do it or ask my dad, but he's busy and the other manager is sick too."

"It's fine," Len waved off her apology. "I like spending time with him, even if he's sulking."

"Well, I should be there by eight," Iris said. The flu had ripped through the staff, and she was currently running a skeleton crew of everyone that wasn't sick. "Do you want me to pick anything up?"

"Maybe some chicken soup. I think he might feel alright to eat something by then," Len suggested. 

"Sure, I can do that."

Len said goodbye and went back to the bedroom and saw Barry stir slightly. He blinked at him and held out a hand.

"Len, cuddle. Now."

Len chuckled softly. He shucked off his shirt and slid into bed next to Barry. Barry immediately octopus-ed his limbs around his boyfriend and snuggled in.

"Sleep tight, Barry."

"Mm, love you." Barry was out. Len couldn't fall asleep for awhile after that.

He wondered if Barry even knew what he was saying, if it was really him or the fever talking. Well, either way, even if Barry didn't remember, Len would never forget.

"Love you too," Len whispered before he finally closed his eyes.


End file.
